Death Doesn't Give Chase (She Waits)
by angelrider13
Summary: Because sooner or later, everyone dies. Fem!MoD!Harry
1. Once Upon A Time

**Hello all!  
**

 **I blame this fic on Tsume Yuki, who is responsible for my addiction to Fem!Harry crossovers. I hope you're happy, Tsume. (In all seriousness, she has some _amazing_ ideas and I highly recommend checking out her work.)**

 **Tsume was kind enough to let me use the name "Hariel" for fem!Harry. Thank you, dear!**

 **Anywho, this fic is probably gonna be a bunch of connected, non-chronological one-shots featuring Fem!MoD!Harry mingling with Bleach characters.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

The first time Ichigo met her, he was three years old.

He found her sitting on the porch overlooking their small backyard, her expression distant and wistful. Her wild black curls spilled over her shoulders and she had the greenest eyes he had ever seen. She was wrapped up in a silver cloak that seemed more like water than fabric the way it pooled around her.

What Ichigo remembered the most was how lonely she looked.

And he, all of three years old and already the protector his mother named him to be, had toddled over and plopped down next to her without a word.

The woman startled, bright eyes turning to him as a bemused expression crossed her face. They stared at each other for a long moment before she asked, very softly:

"Can you see me?"

Ichigo nodded because of course he could. What kind of question was that? She was obviously sitting right here. But then he remembered the weird people with chains on their chests and how most people didn't notice them. Frowning, he leaned over and with a forwardness that most young children possess, pulled her cloak aside to look for the funny chain.

There wasn't one, just a plain red shirt. He poked her chest a few times, just to be sure.

The woman chuckled. "No, no," she said, smiling at him fondly, "I don't have a chain, I'm afraid. I'm a bit different."

Ichigo blinked. "You see them too?" he asked.

The woman hummed. "I see a lot of things that most people miss," she said, "Most people miss me too."

He frowned as the distant look entered her eyes again. "I didn't," he said boldly.

The woman blinked at him, taken aback, before the smile returned to her face. "No, I suppose you didn't," she agreed.

"I'm Ichigo," he said, because his mother taught him manners and said that it was always polite to introduce yourself, holding out his hand the way he'd seen people in movies do when meeting someone new.

"It's very nice to meet you, Ichigo," she said, taking his hand in a gentle, but firm, grip, "My name is Hariel."

"So watcha doin?" Ichigo asked as she let go.

"Watching the sky," she replied airily, "The clouds in the day and the stars at night. They stay the same you know, or at least they change so slowly that no one really notices."

"But why here?" Ichigo asked, "Sky's everywhere."

"Hmm, indeed. But this is my family's house," she said.

Ichigo's brow furrowed. "But this is my house."

Hariel's eyes sparkled with laughter though she only smiled at him. "So it is."

She hummed, pausing for a moment as her gaze slid past him to look back up at the sky. "Not many people can see me," she admitted, something sad sliding across her face that Ichigo didn't like, "My family always can though. Some sooner than others."

Ichigo blinked as Hariel smiled fondly at him. "Me?" he asked, "We're family?"

She nodded. "On your mother's side. I believe I am your many times over great grandmother, though I admit that I stopped keeping track after a while." She looked at him, hand reaching out to hover by his cheek, not quite touching but close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off her skin. "You look very much like your mother. You have her eyes."

Her lips quirked a bit, bright green eyes distant as though remembering something.

Ichigo thought about that. "Grandma," he asked after a moment, wondering at the surprised look on her face at the title - she'd just said she was his grandma, "Can Mama see you?"

"Yes," she said, "Though it took her a lot longer than you did to see me. She was eleven, I believe, when she saw me for the first time." She smiled at him again and the affection in her expression made Ichigo feel something warm curl in his chest. "You're very special, Ichigo."

"That's what Mama says," he agreed with a nod, making the woman laugh lightly.

They sat in silence for a moment and Ichigo took it as a chance to scoot closer to his new grandma. His family was small - just him and his mama and his daddy and his new baby brother or sister inside Mama's tummy and he was fine with that because he loved them even if his daddy was a little funny sometimes. He'd never had grandparents before, but he knew they were family and Mama said that family loved each other no matter what, so he loved his new grandma.

"Would you like to hear a story?" Grandma asked softly.

Ichigo smiled and nodded. "Yes please."

Grandma smiled back.

"Once upon a time, there were three brothers who were traveling down a long and lonely, winding road at twilight..."

* * *

 **Let me know what you think!**

 **Until next time,**

 **~Elri**


	2. A Lily In Bloom

**Holy crap, I was not expecting this story to be this popular. O.O**

 **Anywho, a couple of you have asked me about Hariel in terms of HP vs Bleach timeline and how she could possible be as old as she is saying she is. Here's me answer:**

 **Hariel is from an alternate dimension. She lived her life and then she died, but as the Master of Death, things went a bit different for her.**

 **Here's how it works in my head: there are alternate universes and different planes of existence, etc, etc. and the one thing they all have in common is death. As the Master of Death, Hariel is able to travel between them because she now exists outside the cycle of souls that each dimension has. Occasionally, she can reenter the cycle (though these days she prefers not to - life is exhausting) and live a mortal life. She did this once in what would eventually become Bleach verse and had a family. Now she keeps tabs on her descendants while she wanders.**

 **Hope this helps!**

 **In the meantime, for this chapter, we're switching gears a bit. This takes place sometime before the Turn Back the Pendulum arc.**

* * *

Sousuke found her in one of the courtyards.

The Fifth Division was practically empty at this time of day, most people having gone off to lunch. He had been running an errand and was only now returning and was entirely caught off guard by this stranger.

Her back was to him, though he could tell she was female. Wild black curls tumbled around her shoulders and down her back and she wore a silvery cloak that was made of a material he had never seen before. It didn't move like fabric, more like water, and it seemed to bend the light around it. He had never seen this woman before, neither in the Division or the Seireitei. He didn't recognize her from any of those he had seen from Rukongai either.

He narrowed his eyes before putting a pleasant smile on his face. "Excuse me, miss," he said as he approached.

The woman did not startle, did not stiffen, did not show the slightest hint of surprise at his sudden arrival. She merely turned her head ever so slightly to look at him with a single green, green eye before turning back to the lilies before her.

He'd have thought she dismissed him if not for the quiet word that drifted over to him.

"Yes?"

Her voice was soft, like a breeze rustling through the leaves.

"I do not think you are supposed to be here," he said, carefully crafted concern and wariness lacing his voice, though not all of the later was faked.

This woman was an unknown element he had never encountered before, had never seen hints of before. And for all that she looked harmless, she also looked out of place. She did not fit here or any other place he'd ever been and that put him on guard.

The woman hummed. "Is that so?" she asked, seeming completely disinterested in the fact that she was very much trespassing in the middle of the Seireitei, "Tell me, Aizen Sousuke, where is it that you think I should be?"

He straightened, letting the smile slip off his face and pulling up a look of bewilderment up instead. It was not entirely strange that she would know who he was - he was the lieutenant of the Fifth Division, and people of rank as high as his were often recognized on sight.

And yet.

"You seem to have me at a disadvantage," he said.

The woman turned to him, pinning him in place with her bright green eyes, a small smile pulling at her lips. He took note of her clothes - a plain red shirt and a pair of well worn pants - the make of which he had never seen before, not even in the World of the Living.

"So I do," she said and made absolutely no move to introduce herself.

"May I have your name?" he pried, refusing to become irritated over her non-answer.

"I have many names," she replied, tilting her head in such a fashion that suddenly made her look very much like a noble for all that her clothes were odd, "And I am not in the habit of giving them out to people who I let see me."

His brow furrowed. "... _let_ see you?"

"I have walked passed you many times," she informed him, eyes intent, expression betraying nothing of her thoughts, "I have stood over your shoulder and watched you from a distance and not once have you seen me before this moment."

Sosuke froze a tightness rising in his chest that felt a little too much like fear. But it wasn't because this single woman would never be able to harm him, never be able to stop him and if she knew too much, it would be easy to dispatch her.

She turned back to the lilies, reaching out with one hand to cup one of the blossoms that was clearly dying. Absently, he noted the old ring on her finger – a simple gold band with a cracked black stone as its only decoration. He watched as the flower sprang back to life under her fingers, the color returning, the stem straightening, without the slightest fluctuation in her reiatsu. In fact, now that he thought about it, he could feel nothing from her, not even the slightest hint of presence and yet here she was before him.

"I was curious you see," she said, "How you would react. So far you've only tried to charm me. But I've known people who are much better at putting up such kind facades. I have to wonder, though, how long you plan to pretend."

Sosuke felt himself grow cold the longer she spoke. She knew. Without much thought, he drew his zanpakutou and sliced through her middle.

Or he would have, had his blade not passed through her harmlessly.

The woman clicked her tongue. "How rude," she said, turning to face him even as he took an involuntary step back, fighting down his surprise.

"What are you?" he asked warily, keeping his blade between them for all the good it would do him.

The woman smiled at him, soft and sad, something that looked alarmingly like pity flashing across her eyes. "You should try to find something to love, Aizen Sousuke," she said, "Find something to care about before you drown yourself."

Sousuke narrowed his eyes, letting some of his irritation surface. "I won't ask again, what are you?"

"Whatever I want to be," the woman replied promptly, "The question is, little one, what are _you_? What will you become if you stay as you are? What are you willing to become to get what you want? You might not like the answer."

He fought back the instinctive bristle at that. She looked younger than him and yet she called him "little one" as if he were a child. Spoke to him as if she knew better, as if she was above him. Stronger than him.

"There will always be someone stronger than you," she cut in as he opened his mouth, "Always. You are only ever born with one guarantee and you are trying to run from it. Be careful, child. Such a thing never ends well."

Souskue couldn't find any words. Anything he could think to say stayed lodged in his throat under this woman's bright gaze. She seemed unbothered by his lack of response, by him in general. As if he was insignificant in the grand scheme of things, a mere footnote that was easily over looked. She brushed a gentle finger over the restored lily's petals before stepping away and turning to leave.

"Wait," he called, taking a step after her but then stopping has she paused, turning to look at him over her shoulder.

He'd learned nothing from this encounter; he couldn't let this woman leave, not without gaining _something_ from her.

She wouldn't give her name, had dodged or outright ignored every question he'd asked.

"What do I call you?" he asked finally.

The woman smiled, fond and sad and old and pitying. "You may call me Death."

Then she pulled up her hood and Sousuke could do nothing but stare as she vanished from his sight.

* * *

 **Oh, Sousuke. What are we going to do with you?**

 **Until next time,**

 **~Elri**


	3. Stranger In The Garden

**Hello all! Thank you guys so much for all the support you've given me! Not gonna lie, still pretty baffled over how popular this idea seems to be, but I'm glad you guys like it!**

 **Anywho~! On to the next part!**

 **This chapter takes place pre-canon. Like waaaaaay pre-canon. I'll leave it up to you to decide when exactly.**

* * *

It was something of an open secret that the southern courtyard gardens in the First Division were home to the Jigokucho.

They were independent creatures, knowing exactly when they were needed, coming and going as necessary, needing little care. They were gentle, quiet, little things and while all Shinigami knew where they resided - as they had all been in charge of their care at one point or another - very few really knew of their common visitor.

When Genryusai first became Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13, he had found the Jigokucho swarming something that he could not see, though clearly there was someone there.

Furious that someone had managed to penetrate so deep into the Seireitei undetected and young as he was at the time, he'd demanded to know who was there. When he received no answer, he'd probably done something rash if not for the Jigokucho themselves. For young he might have been, he was still the Captain-Commander and he noticed things that others would over look.

The Jigokucho carried messages, yes, but they also had voices of their own - soft, quiet voices no louder than a whisper caught in the wind.

 _:Mistress,:_ they cooed to him, _:Death.:_

Genryusai had halted, hand on the hilt of his Zanpakuto, and listened.

"Why can I not see her?" he'd asked.

The Jigokucho only gave confused trills in reply before suddenly dispersing. One drifted closer, lingering by his shoulder.

 _:Gone,:_ it cooed, voice tinged with wistful longing, before informing him, _:She is visible if you look.:_

And then it fluttered off, leaving Genryusai to ponder of what had happened.

To this day, it was one of the strangest experiences he has ever had. No one seemed to know of this invisible stranger and there was no mention of her anywhere in the Archives. If Genryusai had not known better, he would have thought the entire thing was a figment of his imagination. But he had not gotten where he was because of fanciful notions or an overactive imagination. He knew what he'd seen. Or rather what he hadn't.

It was the hardest training he'd ever done for the simple fact that he didn't really understand what he was training _for_.

He knew what the end goal was – to see this stranger – but he didn't have the slightest idea how to even begin to work towards that goal. He took to visiting the southern gardens whenever he had a free moment. More often than not, the stranger was not there. During those times he would sit and meditate and listen to the Jigokuho's whispers. He learned that there were those that could see her without trying. Others developed the ability over time. But to most, she remained an unnoticed observer. The Jigokucho did not know how to see her – it was simply something that was or wasn't.

On the days where the Jigokucho swarmed, he spoke.

On those days, the Jigokucho outlined a human figure that sat across from him and listened.

Sometimes, she would relay messages to him.

 _ **:Knowing I am here is half the battle**_ ,: the Jigokucho perched on his shoulder cooed with a woman's soft voice, _**:The rest relies entirely on you. How well do you know yourself? How well do you understand the world around you?:**_

He was a captain class Shinigami. He had achieved Bankai – something that required no little understanding of one's self and he told her so.

 _ **:True,:**_ she replied, _**:But have you accepted your fate?:**_

And then she was gone.

Fate, she'd said.

He had never liked that word. It implied an inescapable future, one that was predetermined and set in stone. A future that was not chosen by the self, but by others. He had never believed in such things.

 _:Promise,:_ the Jigokucho hummed around him, _:The one Promise made and the one Promise always kept. No different from the others. Everyone is given the same Promise, the same Fate. Always.:_

He hadn't understood at the time. But he'd had many teachers over the years and was old enough to know that on never truly stopped learning. This was simply a new puzzle, a riddle that he had to solve.

Admittedly, it was one that took him a long time to solve.

He was not young, not exactly, but he was not old either and it took him a few centuries before he had figured it out.

War was a hard thing to face and the end of a war was harder still for it was only once the fighting was at an end that one could truly grieve all that had been lost. His body ached and his wounds throbbed and his heart was tired. So very, very tired. When he returned to the First Division, he went straight to the southern gardens – more out of instinct than anything else.

The Jigokucho were calming and their whispers brought him peace.

He wanted very much to be alone right now, if only for a moment or two before stepping out to face the world again.

So imagine his surprise when he entered the gardens to find a young woman sitting in the grass instead.

The Jigokucho swarmed her, cooing softly to her as they fluttered around her face and nestled in her hair.

 _:Visitor, Mistress, visitor,:_ they sang.

She turned and Genryusai found himself looking into a pair of bright green, ageless eyes. She looked young, far younger than he knew her to be and her style of dress was like nothing he had seen before. She blinked as their eyes met, a smile flitting across her face when he held her gaze, and gestured to the space before her.

He mirrored her, sitting across from her as the Jigokucho shifted to allow him space to move.

 _:He sees, Mistress,:_ they cooed, _:He sees!:_

Her eyes gleamed with laughter. "So he does," she agreed before addressing him, "Hello, Yamamoto Genryusai. Welcome home."

He hummed, setting his Zanpakuto to the side and resting his hands on his knees. "Thank you," he said simply.

Her lips quirked up. "Do you know your fate?"

"My fate, you say?" he asked; he supposed she was right, after all. Such was the fate of all living things the moment they are given life. War had hammered that fact home far more harshly than anything else ever could. "That I will die one day, of course. It is the way of things."

She tilted her head in acknowledgement. "It is," she said softly, "Eventually, Death comes for us all."

"So it does," he said, "But we all decide how to meet it in the end."

She paused for a moment, considering, something strange flashing across her green eyes too quickly for him to identify and then nodded to herself. "I am called Hariel, little one. Well done."

"Hariel-san," he said, testing the way the name felt on his tongue. It was simple and short and he thought it rather suited her.

"Tell me, how will you meet Death?" she asked.

He raised a brow. "Knowing I will die and how I will die are two different things, Hariel-san," he said dryly.

She huffed, amused. "Don't play coy with me, little one. You know what I mean."

He paused, taking in the curious expression on her face, the way the Jigokucho clung to her anyway they could. He remembered the first words they ever spoke to him of the stranger in the garden.

"I would hope," he said after a long moment, meeting her jewel bright eyes, "that it would be as friends."

She beamed.

* * *

 **As always, let me know what you think!**

 **Until next time,**

 **~Elri**


	4. Calm Before The Storm

**Hello everyone!**

 **Alright, so admittedly, this one got away from me a bit. But hey! Longest chapter so far, so it works out.**

* * *

Kisuke was fairly certain that he had never met someone as stubborn as Kurosaki Ichigo.

The kid was determined - knock him down and he was already standing back up before he'd even hit the ground. He'd survived the Encroachment and dove head long into the training Kisuke had planned for him. And for all the kid complained about the insanity of Kisuke's methods, he pushed through it anyway.

He wasn't powerful - not exactly, not yet. But the potential was there. The _possibility_ was there.

Kurosaki Ichigo was going to be a force to be reckoned with one day.

For now though, he was a kid that Kisuke had spent the last five days, thirteen hours, and six minutes trying to kill - only trying, because for all his potential if Kisuke _actually_ wanted the kid dead, he'd be dead - while Ichigo's only job was to knock Kisuke's hat off.

"This is ridiculous!" Ichigo exclaimed, "We've been at this for five days! Can't we take a break?!"

Kisuke hummed. "I thought you wanted to save Kuchiki-san?"

The glare that got him was admittedly very impressive.

"Don't be stupid," his student growled, "But I'm not going to be much use to her if I keel over!"

Kisuke smirked, which only served to make Ichigo's glare darken. "I suppose," he drawled, tapping his chin in thought, "I'll give you a three minute head start."

"What," Ichigo said flatly.

"Three minutes," Kisuke repeated cheerfully, holding up three fingers to emphasize his point, "To hide and then I'll come find you!"

"That's not a break!" Ichigo yelled at him.

"Two minutes and fifty-eight seconds~" he singsonged back.

Ichigo glowered at him before running off.

Kisuke chuckled, mentally counting down the time. When the three minute mark came, he ambled off in the direction of Ichigo's presence. It wasn't even that much a challenge; the kid still had no grasp on how to conceal his reiatsu. It spilled out of him in waves, telling Kisuke exactly where the boy had gone without him even needing to look. He supposed that was something else they would have to work on.

He perched himself on the bolder Ichigo was reclining against, hand curling around Benihime's hilt. Ichigo showed no sign of knowing he was there, eyes closed and posture loose.

Then the boy suddenly jerked up, eyes going wide and for a moment, Kisuke thought that the boy had sensed him.

"I am _such_ an idiot," Ichigo grumbled to himself, clearly having not registered Kisuke's presence at all, "I can't believe I didn't think of this before. Grandma!"

Kisuke blinked, bemused, wondering why on earth Ichigo was calling for his grandmother. Just as he was about to announce his presence to the teen by pouncing on him, however, the air next to his student shifted and suddenly a woman was stepping out of empty space.

She pulled a silvery hood off her head, revealing wild black curls and stunning green eyes. She looked human, wearing a pair of simple jeans, a plain red shirt, and a beat up pair of old trainers, but the cloak she wore looked more like liquid than fabric and hinted at something _other_.

Kisuke's eyes widened before he dropped back, pulling his reiatsu in tight around his core, hiding it as best one could without a concealing cloak.

The woman smiled. "Hello, sweetheart," she said to Ichigo.

The teen flashed her a brief smile, before frowning. "Grandma, Rukia's been taken, can you – "

The woman chuckled lightly, holding up a hand. "Stop, Ichigo, she's alright."

Ichigo's shoulders eased some. "They haven't done anything to her?"

She shook her head, her gentle smile fading. "No. Not yet," she answered, "She's been locked away in a cell to await her sentence, but until that time, she's being left alone."

Ichigo blew out an explosive sigh, falling back against the rock as the woman sat next to him.

"Are you going to save her?" she inquired.

"Of course," Ichigo scoffed, brow furrowing as he added, "I just wish there was a way to let her know that I was coming."

The woman's expression turned contemplative and Ichigo's eyes narrowed at the look.

"...I know of a way that you could contact her, and only her, but I am not sure if you are capable of learning it," she said slowly, "It has been many, many generations since anyone has been able to use the power granted by my blood."

"I won't know if I don't try," Ichigo said, jaw already set in that stubborn line that Kisuke was becoming very familiar with, "What is it?"

"It's called a Patronus," she explained and Kisuke very carefully started taking mental notes, "I suppose in simple terms, it is a physical projection of yourself. It's primary function it to protect the caster's soul from harm, but it can be used for other things as well."

Hmm, she'd said caster. Perhaps a kind of kido?

"Like passing messages," Ichigo said.

She tilted her head in acknowledgement. "It is not an easy thing to learn and it is even harder to use in combat."

Ichigo was sitting up straight now, brow furrowed and eyes dark. "Why? How does it work?"

The woman paused, seeming to gather her thoughts, bright green eyes going distant. "When you are at your lowest point," she said at last, "When the only thing you know is despair, when your greatest fears have been brought to life right in front of you, you must be able to remember what it is to feel joy."

Ichigo blinked. "Joy?" he asked, echoing Kisuke's thoughts.

She nodded, an absent smile quirking her lips. "To manifest a Patronus, you must think of a memory, a _powerful_ memory. It doesn't have to be long or complicated or even real - it just has to make you happy."

"That's it?" Ichigo asked skeptically.

The woman snorted. "It's not as simple as it sounds," she warned, "Casting a corporal Patronus, which is the only form that can carry a message, is extremely difficult. Being able to feel joy in a seemingly hopeless situation is no easy task," she said, eyes dark.

"Have you?" Ichigo asked after a long moment, "Cast one in a hopeless situation?" he added when she just blinked at him.

She hummed, looking out over the training ground, but not really seeing it.

"When I was thirteen," she started, "My godfather and I were attacked. The closest comparison I could give you would be a Hollow, but I personally feel that these creatures were much, much worse. They were cold, Ichigo, so very, very cold. Water froze over in their presence, plants withered and died. All that was good was suddenly sucked from the air as if it'd never been there, as it would never return. No joy, no love, no warmth. Just emptiness."

Ichigo leaned into her, bumping his shoulder against hers when she stopped, her expression becoming a little too vacant. Kisuke found himself wondering how old she really was, how much she had seen. Ichigo referred to her as his grandmother. He - and all other Shinigami - was far older than he looked, but when he looked at this woman, he could feel the weight of her age for all she looked to be in her twenties.

She flashed Ichigo a smile before continuing. "My godfather had been badly injured and was in no condition to fight. Anyone close enough to help was incapacitated and any other reinforcements were too far away to even be an option. We were surrounded on all sides and they were going to kill him. Me as well, simply because I was there, but they were aiming for my godfather. The only family I had left that gave a damn about me, that _cared_ , and they were going to kill him."

"What did you do?" Ichigo asked softly, thought Kisuke suspected the teen already knew where this was going.

The woman smiled, withdrawing a long stick with small nobs along its length from her cloak and pointing it at the space in front of them, whispering, " _Expecto Patronum_."

Kisuke watched with wide eyes as silvery blue light exploded from the end of the stick, spilling out in rivers, twisting and twining until the seemed to solidify into the form of a large stag.

 _Quincy_ , was Kisuke's first thought, though he retracted it a moment later.

This wasn't reishi manipulation, not exactly. Quincies shaped the reishi around them, but this was something different. The reishi in the immediate area remained undisturbed and the apparition didn't seem connected to it in any way regardless. No, this was something else entirely.

 _Fascinating._

"Whoa," Ichigo breathed.

The woman laughed. "This is Prongs, my fully corporal Patronus."

"It has a name?" Ichigo asked, reaching out with tentative fingers as Prongs lowered its head to peer at the teen.

The woman shrugged. "He," she corrected, "I named him because I felt like it. Not everyone does."

"He's warm," Ichigo murmured, flattening a hand against the stag's neck and Kisuke dearly wished he was close enough to touch.

"He's a manifestation of my joy," the woman said simply, as if that explained everything.

"What are you thinking of?" Ichigo asked suddenly, turning to her, "You said that Patronus come from memories - what are you thinking of?"

She grinned. "You."

Ichigo blinked. "Me?"

"Hm-mm. The first time I ever held you," she recounted, "Two weeks after you'd been born. Masaki thought something terrible had happened because you didn't start crying in the middle of the night and she came rushing in ready to take off my head."

The woman laughed and Ichigo's expression turned fond and sad.

"Yeah," he said softly, "That sounds like her."

"She'd have been a lion," she said wistfully, "Brave and reckless and everything in between."

Ichigo quirked a smile - a small, fragile thing, but more genuine than any other expression the shopkeeper had seen on the teen's face.

The woman shook herself from her thoughts, reaching out and tapping Ichigo on the nose with a slender finger. "Don't you have training to be doing?" she asked.

Ichigo jolted to his feet. "Ah, right! I wonder what's taking so long for Geta-boushi to find me..." he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

The woman smiled. "Oh, I don't think it took him that long at all," she said slyly, eyes flicking up and landing directly on Kisuke.

He was more than a little shocked - had she known he was there the whole time? - when their eyes met. He was also more than a little confused when after a few seconds of eye contact, her eyes went wide and surprise flashed across her features.

"Oh," she said softly.

"What?" Ichigo asked, spinning to look at him as well, "Geta-boushi?! How long have you been there?!"

Kisuke hummed. "How long has it been since the first three minutes?" he asked, hoping down from his perch.

The woman watched him with avid interest and Kisuke noted that the stag had turned towards him as well. Ichigo made to say something, but paused when he noticed where Kisuke was looking.

"Can you see her?" he asked.

Well then.

Kisuke tilted his head. "Am I not meant to?"

Ichigo scowled. "No," he said shortly crossing his arms.

The woman chuckled, rising to her feet. "Most people cannot," she said, "When I last saw you around twenty years ago, Urahara Kisuke, your eyes passed right over me. What changed, I wonder?"

"Oh?" Kisuke said, letting only cheerful curiosity show, "I apologize then, miss, for not noticing you."

Ichigo's gaze was suddenly intense, eyes narrowed, as though he was gauging Kisuke's sincerity.

The woman only smiled. "You may call me Hariel, little one," she said, "I think I will enjoy our future conversations."

While pleased at the promise of future meetings, Kisuke found his thoughts circling back to her age. Physically, she looked a few years younger than him, yet she spoke as though she was far older - as though she _knew_ she was far older.

Ichigo rolled his eyes, cutting in before Kisuke could form a response. "Grandma, you can have tea with Geta-boushi later," he said, hefting his blade over his shoulder, "I have training to get to."

"Maa, I thought you wanted to take a break, Kurosaki-san?" Kisuke asked.

Ichigo glowered at him while Hariel's eyes gleamed with laughter.

"Ichigo," she said, tilting her head towards the stag still standing by its mistress, "Before you get back to it, wasn't there something you wanted to say?"

The teen blinked, eyeing the Patronus. "Uh, do I just talk?" he asked. Hariel nodded and he turned back to the stag, a determined expression on his face. "Rukia," he said, "I'm going to save you, so just sit tight until then."

The stag bowed it's head before it's form wavered and collapsed inward, the silvery blue light winding into misty tendrils that curled together to form a sphere and shooting off through the ceiling of the training ground as if it'd been launched out of a cannon.

Kisuke released a low whistle, tilting his hat back as he eyed the place the Patronus disappeared. Very, very interesting.

"Well that's that, then," he said cheerfully, "Back to work. Nake, Benihime!"

Ichigo's eyes went wide and he dove out of the way as Benihime carved away the ground he'd just been standing on.

"Damnit, Geta-boushi!"

"Now, now, Kurosaki-san, you need to learn to think on your feet~!"

Hariel laughed as Ichigo ran off. "Have fun, sweetheart!" she called after him.

Kisuke grinned at the disgruntled yell she got in reply. "So much to do, so little time," he sighed.

Hariel hummed in agreement, but called out to him before he could chase after his student.

"Kisuke," she said, "Are you familiar with the sensation of the calm before the storm?"

He looked at her from the corner of his eye. She was watching Ichigo's retreating back, her expression serene, but her eyes dark.

"I suppose I am," he answered slowly.

"It's going to start soon," she said absently, voice idle as though they were speaking of the weather and not dangers that hovered just out of sight, "Rukia has been sentenced to death by Sokyoku." She paused here and turned to look him in the eye, lips pressed into a grim line. "Your Central 46 was not the one to issue this order."

Kisuke felt his blood go cold. "You're sure about that?"

Hariel's lips quirked into smile that was far too sad to labeled as such. "As sure as I am that there is a Hollow in my grandson's soul."

Kisuke jerked, spinning around to face her, eyes wide. The Encroachment, while effective, came with side effects. Ones that Ichigo would not be pleased about once he learned of them.

She waved him off. "That's not your fault. It's been there since he was born – it all has. Quincy and Hollow from his mother, Shinigami from his father. All you've done is brought some of it a little closer to the surface."

Ah.

"Masaki-san's condition," he murmured to himself. He'd stabilized her but it seemed that the damage had already been done. "What about the girls?"

Hariel shook her head. "No, Ichigo absorbed all of the Hollow reiatsu while he was still in the womb. The girls are mere Shinigami-Quincy hybrids."

"You say that like it's not a significant combination in and of itself," he said dryly.

Hariel laughed and gave him a beaming smile. "There are stranger things, Kisuke. I'll have to tell you some time."

Kisuke found himself returning her smile. "Over tea?"

"Indeed," she said, "Perhaps after my grandson has left for his rescue mission?"

"It's a date~!"

That got him another laugh. "Yes," she agreed, green eyes glittering, "Until then, little one."

And then between one blink and the next, she was gone.

Hm. It seemed he had something to look forward to in the next few days.

In the meantime, he had a student to hunt – er, train.

* * *

The tower was cold.

Not the kind with ice and snow and freezing temperatures, but the kind that seeped through your skin and sunk into your bones. The kind of cold that lived in silence and echoed emptiness.

The reiatsu suppressing collar felt like a noose around her neck, a heavy weight she was constantly aware of.

The light that filtered into her cell through the narrow window was enough for her to see, but…it's funny, she never thought she could miss the sky. Now all she could see was a small sliver of blue.

" _Rukia."_

She jerked around, shooting to her feet at the sound a voice that shouldn't, _couldn't,_ be here.

But he wasn't here.

The cell was empty save for her.

Yet she suddenly felt warmth brushing against her skin, surrounding her, chasing away the lingering chill.

" _I'm going to save you, so just sit tight until then."_

"Ichigo…" she whispered, looking around for the source of the voice.

It was a little distorted, echoing around her, but it was his voice.

" _Rukia, I'm going to save you, so just sit tight until then."_

Her breath hitched and she blinked back sudden tears, her heart somewhere in her throat.

He sounded just as he always did when he made up his mind: stubborn and determined and unmovable. She should have known he wouldn't just sit by, he'd find a way to get to her, even if it was this strange message. Because for all she couldn't see the source, she had no doubt that this was Ichigo's doing.

And it made a part of her _hope_.

She knew she shouldn't.

She knew her fate.

She knew there was no escaping it.

But.

Ichigo was fierce when it came to his friends and family. He was like a dragon that guarded its hoard – unwilling to part with it, willing to kill for it. As much as she wanted him to stay away, she knew that if he could find a way into the Soul Society, Ichigo would come for her.

And as much as the thought warmed her, she dreaded it.

Her brother had taken Ichigo down easily, with almost no effort. And he was not the strongest fighter here.

Ichigo wouldn't stand a chance.

And yet.

" _Rukia, I'm going to save you, so just sit tight until then."_

With the warmth wrapped around her, holding her, protecting her, all she felt was joy.

"You idiot," she whispered, smiling through her sudden tears, "You stupid, stubborn, hard-headed fool."

" _Rukia, I'm going to save you, so just sit tight until then."_

Ichigo was coming.

All she had to do was wait.

* * *

 **To clarify the ending a bit:**

 **Rukia can't see Hariel meaning that she also cannot see her Patronus. However, the message was from Ichigo, so she heard it no problem. Make sense?**

 **Until next time,**

 **~Elri**


	5. Hush, Baby, Don't Cry

**Christmas update that was meant to go up yesterday but didn't because people wouldn't leave our house! So were still pretending it was yesterday and that this was posted on Christmas.**

 **Basically, that one time Misaki tried to take Hariel's head off.**

* * *

Masaki woke to silence.

She blinked blearily, Isshin's sleeping face coming into view. He was completely dead to the world, snoring softly, one arm curled loosely around her. She smiled fondly at him as she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

What had woken her?

The night was peaceful, Isshin a comforting warmth next to her. She as always tired lately, she should be enjoying sleep while she was able – wait.

She was exhausted because she kept waking up in the middle of the night.

She kept waking up in the middle of the night because Ichigo kept crying.

Ichigo, who had not cried once tonight.

Masaki was out bed before she even realized she was moving, grabbing her Cross and all but sprinting to the nursery. She threw open the door, Heilig Bogen drawn and ready to fire on the figure she saw standing over her son's crib.

"Masaki."

She paused, blinked and finally registered the green eyes staring at her in surprise. Her fingers froze on the bow string.

"Grandma!"

Hariel huffed, amused, as Masaki scrambled to collapse her bow. "Well, you've certainly got the protective motherly instincts down," she said dryly, rocking her arms were little Ichigo had started fussing.

Masaki rubbed the back of her neck and laughed sheepishly. "Sorry, Grandma," she said, "I'm just used to him waking me up and when he didn't…" she trailed off and gave a helpless shrug.

"Oh, I'm well aware of what that's like, sweetheart," her grandmother said, "You don't have to explain anything to me."

Masaki walked further into the room, smiling as Hariel brushed a gentle fingertip across Ichigo's forehead.

"He's beautiful, Masaki," Hariel said softly, eyes bright, "You should be proud."

Masaki beamed. "You should have seen Isshin," she recalled fondly, a soft laugh escaping her, "He was in a complete panic the whole time but when he got to hold his son for the first time…"

Hariel chuckled. "Yes, there is nothing quite like that first moment," she agreed. She paused for a moment, staring at the sleeping infant in her arms before saying, "He's very bright, Masaki. So very, very bright."

Masaki pressed her lips into a tight line. She knew that – has known that since the fourth month of her pregnancy when she first felt Ichigo's reiatsu brush against hers. Even now, as tiny as he is and huddled in his many times great-grandmother's arms, her son's reiatsu leaks out in waves.

"His parents are strong," Hariel continued, "And so he will be as well. Masaki," Hariel looked up and held her eyes and this was one of those moments where she looked so unspeakably _old_ that Masaki wondered how she hadn't collapsed under the weight of all those years, "Teach him to be kind. Teach him love and compassion. Don't let him feel lonely."

"I won't," she swore, frowning slightly at the very thought, "You don't even need to ask."

Hariel smiled. "I know," she said, rocking Ichigo gently once more and placing a light kiss on his forehead before carefully handing him over to Masaki. She ran gentle fingers through fire bright tufts of hair as the baby curled into Masaki's chest. "Let your parents get some sleep, little one. They need rest too, hm?"

Masaki huffed. "I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon, but thanks for the thought, Grandma."

Hariel chuckled and shook her head and pressed a kiss to Masaki's cheek. "It never hurts to dream," she said with a cheeky smile that gentled as she added, "If you and Isshin ever need a night, I would be more than happy to look after him."

"I'll keep that in mind," Masaki said, "You can visit any time though. I'm sure Ichi-chan would love to get to know his grandmother."

Hariel's eyes shined. "And I am very much looking forward to knowing him."

* * *

 **Yay! Mama Misaki! Baby Ichi! So cute! Thoughts?**

 **Until next time,**

 **~Elri**


	6. The Scales Have Tipped

**I live!**

 **Sorry for the delay everyone. I don't know how may of you follow my One Piece stories, but if you don't, the reason for my long absence was that repeated plagiarism of my work really turned me off writing for awhile. This is me trying to get back into the habit of writing. Thank you all for your patience.**

* * *

It hit her like a blow to the chest.

Air she didn't need to breathe rushed from her lungs, leaving her dazed. Something had shifted. No. Shifted wasn't the right word – it was too small, too narrow, to encompass the magnitude of what she was feeling.

Power.

Death.

Souls being sheared apart in a single moment, lives being snuffed out in the span of a blink. It was all too quick, too sudden. It wasn't right. It was out of balance and disjointed and she felt them screaming in confusion and fear and pain and surprise.

And the worst part was, she _recognized_ it.

 _No_ , she thought, _No, no, no, he wouldn't._

He would.

Heart in her throat, she moved, reaching back to one of her youngest the same moment he reached for her.

It was raining.

It was dark.

Hariel stared at the sight before her, horror pooling in her stomach.

Ichigo was sitting in the mud, wide eyed and pale, Masaki sprawled out across his legs, blood pooling around them. Hariel didn't need to ask what had happened. She'd known before she even arrived.

Masaki was gone.

Not Dead, but consumed.

Because that last great pull had taken her ability to fight and her granddaughter made a choice between her life and her son.

And that was no choice at all.

"Ichigo," she whispered as she knelt next to him.

The boy didn't even acknowledge her, brown eyes locked on his mother's bloody body.

She sighed and reached out, smoothing a gentle hand over her grandson's wet hair. "Oh, sweetheart," she murmured, "I'm so sorry."

Ichigo didn't move, didn't speak.

And despite her rage and sorrow and heartbreak, Hariel sat with him. She stayed even as Shihouin Yoruichi arrived to investigate the strange fluctuation in reiatsu. Stayed when the woman's eyes widened in horrified surprise at the scene before her. Stayed as she knocked her grandson out and pried him away from Masaki's body.

She stayed until Ichigo was tucked safely into the arms of his weeping father and then she disappeared.

* * *

"Did you feel it?"

Ryuuken very carefully did not react, not looking away from his book. "Grandmother," he greeted blandly before taking a sip of his tea.

"Ryuuken," Hariel demanded, patience for the night long since spent, "Did you feel it?"

He glanced up at her tone, slowly placing his tea down. "That reiatsu shift a few hours ago? Yes."

Hariel nodded, eyes roving over him. Ryuuken waited patiently – he'd long since learned that Hariel was not a woman that could be rushed into anything. Finally, she seemed to find what she was looking for, the tension in her shoulders dissipating as she collapsed into the armchair across from him.

"Masaki is dead," she said bluntly.

His book slipped through nerveless fingers, landing on the floor with a muted thump. "What?" he whispered into the suddenly loud silence.

Hariel smiled bitterly. "You felt the reiatsu," she explained, "but you didn't feel the death that came with it."

"What happened?" Ryuuken demanded.

"Yhwach," Hariel said making him freeze because he knew that name and it was just a _story_ , but Hariel was looking at him with those heartbroken, knowing, green eyes and he felt his blood go cold, "He took back what he thought was his and ended up killing most of those he broke. Masaki…Masaki is, _was_ , a mother, Ryuuken. The choice between her life and her child – "

"Is no choice at all," he finished.

Hariel gave him a sad, sad smile and he closed his eyes so he didn't have to see it. He'd always hated that smile. It didn't look right on her face but at the same time it seemed far too familiar with it. Arms wrapped around him, pulling him close and he went willingly, both for his own comfort and for hers.

"She's Passed?" he asked.

"…No," she answered, tightening her grip on him.

He released a shuddering sigh. Masaki was dead because of some foolish, mythical man's greed and she didn't even get the freedom of Death.

"She will," Hariel promised, running slender fingers through his hair, "One day."

"One day," he echoed, eyes burning and throat tight. It seemed so…hollow. But it was Hariel and Hariel never lied. If she said Masaki would get her peace then she would; he would have to be content with that.

"And the boy?"

"Ichigo is alive," Hariel answered, "I don't know how much he saw. He was with her when I arrived."

Ryuuken grimaced but nodded. It wasn't a favorable outcome by any means, but it wasn't the worst either. What a mess.

"It's okay to cry," she said.

He scoffed, the sound rough and strangled, catching in his throat and tripping over his tongue. But he could already feel his eyes filling, the hot sting of tears pressing against his eyelids as he squeezed them shut. He opened his mouth to say something – what, he didn't know, to refute her, to childishly protest that it wasn't fair, to say that he couldn't remember how to cry – but nothing came out. The words died long before they reached his lips and he was left choking on air.

"It's okay, Ryuu," his grandmother soothed, "It's okay. Sometimes crying is the only way your eyes can speak when your mouth can't explain the things that made your heart broken."

The tears broke free and a keening sound slipped passed his lips.

Trembling hands reached out and tangled in silvery fabric, knuckles going white under the force of his grip.

Hariel released a shuddering sigh and pressed her lips to his hair, crystalline tears sliding down her own cheeks.

"It's alright," she repeated.

The words rang empty even to her own ears.

* * *

 **Until next time,**

 **~Elri**


End file.
